


Unsorted Sounds

by Spark (SparkPlug)



Series: Original Works [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: German names, M/M, Viking's at hearts, funky hair, i like cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 07:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18425709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkPlug/pseuds/Spark
Summary: Lucas is an ordinary kid, going to high school. But what happens when a totally not cute boy transfers to his school?





	Unsorted Sounds

A mess. That was the only way to describe the room. There were clothes everywhere, blankets and pillows piled around and on the bed where a sleeping boy was drooling on his pillow with his hair going every which way. There were stuffed animals and books tucked into every nook and cranny, sketchbooks half finished in the corner and a mass of pencils and markers in jars on the desk with a few plants and found objects. An old guitar hung from his wall, a tuner clipped to the head.

The quiet peace of the morning didn't last long when a loud phone alarm ripped through the morning silence, breaking the sleeping man's slumber. However, there was already a war going on Inside the man's head that was keeping him awake.

"Can we stay home from school?" Voice 1 asked.

"No, we have to go, because it's school and we've missed nearly ten days in the last two months," Voice 2 reasoned.

"But... we're still in the top of our classes."

"That's because we do the work at home."

"...So why do we have to go?"

"Because we need to learn."

"Enough, both of you," another voice jumped in.

"That's not a good reason, we already learn at home," voice 1 continued, ignoring voice 3.

"What if something happens and we should've been there?"

"Then tough luck."

"Why are you so hard to argue with?!"

"Cause I'm right. Bitch."

"ENOUGH BOTH OF YOU! WE'RE GOING TO SCHOOL!" Voice three screamed, making them both shut up.

"Jesus fucking christ..." he exclaimed when the phone blinded him, wiping off the alarm quickly and rubbing his eyes before flopping back down onto the bed.  
"Why can't I just have a quiet morning without school?" he complained, willing his body to move and get up.

 

"Why can't I just have a quiet morning without school?" he complained, willing his body to move and get up.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing up and searching the dirty clothes and clean clothes in his closet and dresser drawers for something half decent to wear. Finally settling on a pair of ripped jeans and a loose light grey t-shirt. Pocketing his phone and slinging his headphones around his neck, he picked up his backpack and opened the door to his room, setting the backpack down in the kitchen before going to the washroom to take out his retainer and relieve himself.

Stumbling into the kitchen, he playfully pushed his little brother who pushed back and grabbed himself a bowl for cereal.

"Good morning sweetie," his mom sang, making herself a cup of tea.

"Don't call me that," he grumbled, pouring the milk into the bowl and grabbing a  
spoon.

"Okay honey," his mom teased.

Rolling his eyes, he kissed his mom's cheek and sat down at the table in the dining room to eat his cereal and check his phone for any messages during the night. As expected his friends blew up his phone till early morning. A smile cracked across his face when he typed his response to last night shenanigans.

Slowly_dying_from_anxiety_since_20BC  
Y'all need to get more sleep.

Insomnia's_great  
Who the fuck says y'all?

Slowly_dying_from_anxiety_since_20BC  
I do!

Shaking his head he checked Instagram for any new photo's or comics, finding yet again that Kiki decided to post more selfies, and that George found more snakes on his trip, that man really liked snakes. He was crunching on the last few balls of sugary goodness when the alarm on his phone went off letting him know he had to leave in five minutes. 

"Fuck..." he muttered through a mouthful while standing up to put away his bowl.

"Lucas! Language!" his mother scolded while shaking her head.

"Sorry mom," Lucas apologized while putting his bowl in the dishwasher. 

"Lothar, come on, hurry up!" he shouted to his little brother.

"Yeah, yeah!"

Squeezing a little bit of toothpaste out onto his toothbrush, Lucas cleaned his teeth so he didn't kill anyone with his horrid morning breathe at school, before rushing out the door with his little brother who already had his jacket on. They walked to Lothar's school, dropping him off like they always did. Lucas turned up his music and headed to high school, changing his personality to more reserved so that he didn't bother anyone he passed in the halls or on the street even though his music made him really happy and excited for the day.

Lucas reached his locker in record time, inputting the combination and drawing out the binder he needed for his first classes, Lucas put away unnecessary items, taking his sketchbook back out, along with his favorite pencil case. He locked his locker by pushing his knee against it and sliding the lock in the hole. He sauntered to his first class, trying to focus on something so he didn't drift off and forget what class he had. Double checking he had the right class on his schedule, he entered the room, putting his stuff down on his desk and settling down to wait for attendance.

Lucas twiddled his thumbs watching out the window waiting for class to begin. There was a little conversation he could overhear was enough to nearly kill his mood. They were talking about him, picking on little things he did when nervous or embarrassed. Bringing his headphones up to his ears he turned the volume up and hoped to drown out the voices of other kids talking in the classroom. It stung him harshly but he tried to push it away and not focus on it. Still, little comments picked apart at him, and he hated it.

"Alright, listen up," Mr.O'farrel barked at the class, making Lucas drop his  
headphones and sit up, focusing his attention on the teacher.

"Lucie?" Mr.O'farrel started taking attendance.

"Here!"

"George?"

"..."

"George?"

"George is absent!"

"Very well... Marcella?"

"Here!"

"Lucas?"

"H-here!" Lucas stuttered, losing focus on the class, and playing with the edge of his sleeve to keep himself busy.

A small sketchbook sat in front of Lucas, a little doodle of a boy with a far-off and distant look on his face was sketched in the corner of the page, a neon pink and green mechanical pencil sat across the page. At some point, Mr.O'farrel called for the classes attention and Lucas snapped his gaze up to the front of the room.

There stood a tall boy with a stoic look on his face, he had long hair braided on the sides, with a small amount of stubble liking his chin, little hoops, beads, and nick-nacks were woven through his hair, his hair fell to his back in blonde chunks, some loose and others braided together. The longer Lucas stared the more details he noticed, there were feathers woven in his hair too, and he had a tight white and red plaid shirt buttoned up around his torso and skinny jeans of all things around his legs, leaving little to the imagination. 

Lucas fidgeted with his hair, trying to separate the two colors he had dyed in recently, black and blonde. It made the freckles on his face pop out, and show more than they did with his usual light brown. There was something about this man that made him want to impress him and show off.

"Class this is, Ketil Ozursson, he will be joining our class. Ketil is there anything you could tell the class about yourself?"

"I like cats," Ketil said bluntly.

"Well then... thank you for sharing. You can take the seat next to Marcella, the girl with pink hair," Mr.O'farrel said, gesturing to the empty seat in the row over from Lucas.

Fuck.

Lucas thought as he and Ketil locked eye contact when Ketil went to take his seat, Lucas in the middle of drawing the very perfect man who had just joined his class. Thank g god that Ketil didn't say anything and instead did a full 360 turn so that Lucas could get proper proportions, making Lucas' jaw drop.

What am I going to do?

Sighing happily, Lucas doodled more little drawings in his sketchbook, the little items, the original owners of the feathers, the pattern on his shirt, and the small braids loosely made into his hair.

Maybe he did make the right decision to come to school today.


End file.
